


Taming the Wolf

by wolfdogmcu



Series: Stucky [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU, Bottom Bucky Barnes, But Bucky gets him all soft, Choking, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom Steve Rogers, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Ex-HYDRA Bucky, M/M, Protective Steve Rogers, Rimming, S.H.I.E.L.D Rehabilitation Program AU, Steve Rogers has a Potty mouth, Steve can be a harsh bastard when it comes to work, Steve helps reprogram the people who come in, Sub Bucky Barnes, They love each other, Top Steve Rogers, lo and behold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:14:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22413049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfdogmcu/pseuds/wolfdogmcu
Summary: Steve had been working in S.H.I.E.L.D's rehabilitation program for a while, and had seen many an extreme case come and go. But HYDRA's Wolf, as he was known, had been something else entirely. Rather taken with this case (and the man involved), Steve takes care of the wolf.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Stucky [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1566961
Comments: 22
Kudos: 184





	1. Welcoming the Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> This piece. This whole fic. It has taken me so long to do. It's my first Stucky smut (I'm pretty sure?) and proofreading this has been a nightmare. However, I would say I'm rather pleased with the results.  
> Due to length and layout, I will be uploading this in chapters, but I will be uploading them all at once. This is just for ease of reading purposes.  
> I was torn about if I should tag this as Mean Steve Rogers or not, because he's not particularly cruel the whole way through, but he isn't all that nice at first.

For a while now, S.H.I.E.L.D had been running a rehabilitation program. Though headed by Fury, many of the cases were handled by Captain America, who seemed to have a penchant for soothing the agents. Plus, it was generally him that they had something against at first, given his iconography. The training they received prior to coming here tended to be anti-government, and anti-American. So, having them get used to Steve, and eventually _ like _ him, eased the rest of the transition.

The people who came here were typically HYDRA trained. They would arrive, be reprogrammed, and be moved on their merry way. And, up until now, it had all been fairly simple. Mind control was a common reason for their destructive actions, as well as the genuine belief that HYDRA truly worked for a greater good. Until now, no one had been sent at them that could be classified as superhuman.

Then, the Wolf was brought in. He was built like a brick shithouse, muscular with a chunky frame, though he was on the shorter side of average height. His hair was long, scruffy and oily, and his beard was thick. The man sported a split lip, along with a black eye, and a seemingly wounded hand. One of his arms was metal. He walked with a heavy limp on that side, but Steve couldn’t tell if it was from the weight of the bionic limb, or from an injury. He was yelling quite nastily, in what was either a foreign tongue, or very mangled English. 

Normally, there would be some difficulty convincing these agents to get into the cell. It made sense; they would briefly be captive in a place they were trained to hate. However, having been quite damaged prior to this, they couldn’t put up much of a fight. The Wolf, on the other hand, was a nightmare. At first, the team who brought him in tried to force him inside his cell, shoving quite roughly, but he kept fighting them off. He would knock them down, and try to bolt. 

Steve knew he would have to intervene at this point. Their new project would either seriously injure someone (possibly himself), or get away, meaning ‘excessive force’ would be required anyway. He stepped into the containment area, where he moved quietly behind the man. With incredible deftness, he hooked his arm around his neck, pulling him into a tight headlock. He seized the arm that came at him, earning an agonized squeal as pain shot through it. 

“Listen, kid. Either you go in there now and settle the  _ fuck  _ down, or I’ll wait til you pass out, and I’ll put you in there. You might have done them in, but you ain’t doin’ that to me.”    
Snarl.   
“Okay, hard way it is.”   
The Wolf’s breathing cut off enough that he began to struggle, “Fine! Fine! Let go! Please!”   
His voice was strained, and Steve secured him around the chest as he moved his arm from his neck. Pushing from behind, he encouraged the man into the cell. He seemed reasonably defeated.

Steve knew better than to trust this. He’d seen it too many times. Hell, even he played the ‘pretend to submit’ game himself in a few close calls on missions. So, when he  _ did  _ let go of the agent, he wasted no time bolting out of the cell, and slamming the gate shut. Lightheadedness meant that the prisoner was slowed, and it gave the Captain ample opportunity to lock the gate.

“I’ll give you time to calm down. Get your breath back. What’s your name, kid?”    
At first, he was ignored.    
“Well, I know you can talk. I heard that pretty mouth beggin’. So tell me, what’s your name? I ain’t calling you Wolf.”    
“James Buchanan Barnes.”    
“Steve Rogers,” He introduced, “See you soon, James.”    
Just as Steve was walking away, the Wolf lunged at the caging, smashing against it.   
“I wouldn’t chance it - built for bigger threats than you, James. We’ve had the Hulk in there.”   
For now, James seemed to relent, stalking to the bed and slumping down. 


	2. Bad Breakfast

By the next day, James had his energy back. This was far from a good thing for anyone involved. Sam, who was working morning duty in the containment area, had tended to what were deemed the ‘easier cases’ already. The Wolf was the last on his route. It was a simple task - go in, see that they were in fit health, offer them food and drink. In the very instant the Falcon reached the bars, James swiped, seizing him by the collar of his shirt. 

“Hey! Cap! Give us a hand!” Sam yelled into the communicator on his wrist.    
Aggressively, James pulled him against the bars a few times, gripping with his metal arm so he couldn’t be pried off so easily.    
Steve thundered into the room, shield in hand, slamming it into the side of James’ arm, making him let go. As Sam stumbled backwards, Steve gripped the arm by the wrist tightly.   
“Go take your break, Wilson. I’ll sort this.”

Sam didn’t argue, eagerly abandoning the situation. He trusted that the Captain would be able to handle this. As James swung for him with his other hand, he caught it quickly, squeezing his wrist impossibly tight.    
“Wild one, aren’t ya?” He turned the man’s arm, until he gave a shrill cry, “Get your behaviour in order, punk, or you’ll be feeling much worse than this.”    
Punctuating his point, Steve twisted James’ right arm further, holding it in place. It felt like the joint was tearing; any further and the elbow would certainly pop.   
“Gonna be a good boy?”    
He gave a submissive whine, and backed off when the blonde let him go.

For a moment, Steve paced about just out of reach. He eyed the ground where a small box of cereal had been dropped.    
“‘S your middle name again?”   
“Buchanan.”   
“Hm…” There was a pause, “Bucky. Mind if I call you that?”   
“Better than James.” 

He was strutting about the bars like a caged tiger, leering at the Captain and the box of food he was holding. Bucky was starving. Steve, noticing where his attention was drawn, shook the box.    
“I’m not sure you deserve this really, Bucky, given your conduct.”   
His fists slammed the bars.   
“You’re not selling your case to me, baby boy. Go sit on your bed.” 

The pet name made him swallow hard, his stomach tightening. Each time Steve addressed him, he spoke in a way that made Bucky feel emasculated. Standing still, he refused to cooperate with orders.   
“Bed.”   
“No.”    
“You wanna play this game with me, sugar? You’re not gonna like the result. One more chance.”   
“ _ Fuck. You. _ ” 

Something about the smile on Steve’s face was sinister, devastating. He made his way slowly to the small table in the corner, where Bucky could still see him. From the other side of the bars, he was followed. Without a word, Steve opened the small pack of cereal, and - while retaining constant eye contact with the agent - ate it grain by grain. For the first while of this, Bucky gave an active, aggressive protest. This was torturous. He screamed and beat his body against the bars, smart enough to put the weight on the metal arm. It got no reaction, or pity. 

When he was done, he tipped the box. Only a few crumbs spilled out onto the table, followed by the plastic wrapper inside. Walking over to the cell, he stood slightly out of reach.   
“You want to eat? You fuckin’ behave yourself. See ya later, kid.”    
On his way out, he tossed the box through the bars, landing it at Bucky’s feet. He picked it up, and stomped over to his bed, proceeding to rip it apart. 


	3. Wound Care

It was settled that Steve would manage Bucky exclusively. He was far too aggressive for anyone else; there was no need to unnecessarily risk members of staff. Plus, he had to admit, he was rather drawn to this man. There was a thrill in the interactions. The Captain liked to think it was the challenge that drew him in with this particular case, but something else crawled under his skin.

Dinnertime rolled around, and he made his way into the containment room with a packed lunch box. The second he opened the door, he could hear Bucky scrambling to the gate, punching it insistently. Steve just stood in the doorway, staring over at him.   
“Oh, sweetheart, knock that off,” He sounded exasperated, “Go sit on your bed.”    
He stopped hitting the gate, but wouldn’t move.   
“Bucky. Remember at breakfast - when you didn’t listen? We don’t want to go through that again, do we?”

His stomach was growling. Though he despised listening to the man, hunger pains had struck him multiple times since he protested obedience this morning, and they were growing unbearable. Wandering over to the bed, slumping down on the edge, he leered past his brow. Steve shut and locked the door to the containment room, fumbling in his pocket to pull out the keys to the gate.

“If you even think about lunging at this fuckin’ gate, kid, you get tased. That’s gonna feel like  _ hell  _ through that arm of yours. Stay. Put.”    
Bucky audibly growled, but he stayed where he was, up until Captain America had come inside, and shut the gate behind him. Then, he stood.   
“Sit down.”   
“No.”   
The blonde brandished the taser, “Sit back down, doll. I ain’t fuckin’ around. You want your dinner? You’ll behave. Now sit your ass down on that bed, and stay put.”

Had he felt even a little less like he would starve otherwise, he wouldn’t have obeyed. He couldn’t risk kicking off right now; it would likely use up the last of his strength. His laser like focus on Steve was intense. It didn’t seem the Captain would balk under the gaze, and he approached him as normal. He placed the lunch box beside Bucky, before hooking his thumb under Bucky’s bearded chin.

The reaction now was different. He had expected a degree of aggression, and was surprised to see a moment of fright in the man’s eyes.    
“Your lip ain’t looking good, sugar.”   
“Get off…”    
Even Bucky was surprised with how weak his voice fell - he wanted to sound intimidating. It was all well and good, snapping and shouting while he had the protection of the cell bars. But now he was right before Steve, in an enclosed space, almost completely weakened by hunger and suddenly very aware of just how immense the man was.

“Look. Even if you hate me, kid, you’re gonna hate sepsis more. You lettin’ me clean it up for ya?”    
He grumbled quietly, moving his face away, “Fine.”    
“You’ve got some food in there, baby boy. Sandwiches, I think. Ain’t nothing special, and it’s all cold, sorry ‘bout that. But you’re not trusted yet not to weaponize it. I’m gonna go grab the antiseptic, alright doll? Be good.”   
The way he spoke to him left Bucky immensely flustered, but he complied for now.    
“‘Could weaponize this if I wanted to…”   
“Heard that,” Steve called as he walked off. 

By the time the blonde returned, Bucky had finished off the food, and was sipping some water. A part of him felt a need to taunt Steve, with a want to prove him wrong in his assumption that this lunch was unweaponisable. So, the second he entered the cell, the sealed water bottle was thrown at him.   
“Buck.”   
“Steve.” His tone was mocking.

It seemed he was ignored, but he could spot Steve clenching his jaw beneath the well maintained beard. A smirk struck his lips, but karma came through when the wound felt like it was burning. It was clear that the older man was trying to remain calm, aware that losing his temper would do  _ nothing  _ to help the situation, but he was verging on the edge of snapping. This was more than evident in the force he used to grip Bucky’s face. His fingers dug into the corners of his jaw; it hurt like hell. The pressure made him open his mouth slightly. 

The Captain said nothing. Instead, he raised a drenched cotton pad to the wound, wiping it clean. Immediately, Bucky began to protest, tugging his head back and kicking Steve in the belly. He heaved slightly, gritting his teeth and swallowing back the heat of anger rising in him. Bucky didn’t manage to free himself from the grip, so when he’d stilled once more, Steve approached the wound more tentatively. 

He was impressively gentle this time. Though the brunette kept sucking in sharp breaths, and letting out quiet complaints, he didn’t react as viscerally to this.    
“Sugar, look at me a second,” Steve made a tutting sound, like calling a dog. Bucky obeyed.   
“I’m about to put the antiseptic on, alright doll? It’s gonna sting. I’m begging ya, don’t kick me in the tummy again. Okay?”   
“I can’t promise that.”

Steve was as careful as he could be, tapping a new swab doused in antiseptic to the wound on the Wolf’s lip. He howled out in pain, reaching his hands to clutch the man’s forearm.    
“It’s alright, c’mon. You can’t be a big tough bastard and start crying over  _ this,  _ Buck.”   
He moved against the man’s resistance, continuing to brush the cotton over the wound until he’d adjusted to the sting enough to allow proper cleaning. The agitation had made the wound weep slightly. Once Steve deemed it adequately cleaned up, he dried up the site with a gauze pad. 

“I still don’t like you,” Bucky made an attempt to growl.   
“I know, kid. And I’m taking this lunchbox now. You can keep your bottle but if you throw it at me again, God help you. Don’t bother at your lip.”


	4. Punishment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky mentions some things about his past - specifically revolving around abandonment issues. Proceed with caution if you are sensitive to such topics.

When Steve came through again in the morning, Bucky was still asleep. Confusingly, he had taken the mattress  _ off  _ of the bed frame, and taken the blankets away from that in turn. He was curled up in said blankets, lying by the gate. The blonde just shook his head, puzzled, and went to sit at the small table while he waited for the Wolf to move. 

During this period of observation, he noticed that he’d also thrown the ripped up box from yesterday’s cereal all over the cell. One of his pillows had been ripped open, and fluff was all over the floor, nearest the bed. He was cuddling the other pillow - that part was almost sweet. The rest of this, however, was an absolute nightmare. Figuring he would have to clean this up, Steve came to the cell, reaching a hand through the bars to give the man a shove. 

“Rise and shine, kid.”   
Bucky’s metal hand reached up and gripped Steve’s arm tightly. He wouldn’t relent the hold.   
“C’mon, darlin’, let go.”   
The brunette fidgeted awkwardly, his grip loosening due to the distraction of being tangled in the blanket. Steve managed to pull his arm free.   
“You gonna be nice now?”

He growled as he stood up, kicking the blanket away slightly.    
“Seems like a no.”    
Bucky spat at him. Steve raised his brow, his gaze suddenly hardening.   
“Seems like someone doesn’t want his breakfast.”    
“Fuck the breakfast,” He swiped it harshly out of the Captain’s hand.    
That was a terrible mistake. 

At first, it seemed that the man was unphased. He simply looked at the box on the ground, then back up at Bucky. His face lacked a clear expression. He took the key from his pocket, and unlocked the cell door, letting himself in, and locking it behind him. Bucky tried to ready himself to lash at him, but his feet caught in the quilt on the ground, making him stumble. Suddenly, he was shoved to the wall, a hand on his throat as the blonde loomed over him.

“Look, you little bastard,” His face was level with Bucky’s now, his breath hot on his face, “I’ve had enough of this shit from you. I’m comin’ in here, takin’ care of you real good, givin’ you the benefit of the doubt over and over. And what do you do, huh?”    
The grip on his throat tightened. His eyes were watering, the edges of his vision were shrouded in black. He was shaking. Desperately, he clawed at Steve’s hand.   
“You spit in my face. Literally. Nasty little cunt. Get your shit together, Buck.”

Steve’s hand dropped, “You gonna be a good boy now?”   
Bucky coughed harshly, tears spilling over his heated cheeks.    
“I don’t like getting mean, doll. It ain’t me. Please don’t push me too much.”   
“It hurt.”   
“I know, baby boy, but you’re gonna get hurt if you keep hurting me. I let you off yesterday for kicking me. I’ve let you off for a lot, sweetheart. But if you’re gonna abuse my patience, you get none of it. You gonna be good, Bucky?”   
He nodded meekly. 

Pacing away, the Super Soldier took a few deep breaths. He was telling the truth with what he said - he didn’t like having to get cruel. Guilt was already swallowing him. Looking around the room, he heaved a sigh. Bucky had paced over to the gate, sitting down with his blanket and pulling it against him. Now, Steve always felt bad for things like this, but something struck him much deeper about this. The Wolf closer resembled a kicked puppy. 

“I’m sorry, sugar,” Steve said it before the thought was fully processed, “I shouldn't have hurt you like that.”   
He came to sit beside the man, giving him a mournful look.   
“I know.”   
He was surprised about that reply.   
“I shouldn’t wind you up.”   
It was hard to tell if he meant this, or if he was just apologizing out of fear that it would happen again.

“Kid, we ain’t out to get ya. At least, not me. We just want to get things good for you - that’s the point of this program. HYDRA? They’re bad news, doll.”   
“Yeah, well. They took me in when I needed it.”   
“And we can take you in now.”   
He gave a derisive snort.   
“You won’t want to.”

There was an uncomfortable silence. Bucky hugged the cover closer to his chest, pulling his knees up with it. Steve tried to work out what he had meant.    
“Do you mind telling me why?”    
“No one wants to. Never did. Was a failed project for HYDRA. They gave me too much conscience. I did some’ their work, but wouldn’t do it all. Not without some good reason. Gave me lots of those.” 

The Wolf sighed, “When S.H.I.E.L.D got me, it was because I was sent to kill  _ Fury.  _ Honestly? I think HYDRA meant for them to get me. Get their failed project off their hands; probably hoped you’d put me down.”    
“How’d you end up with HYDRA in the first place?”   
“Parents gave me up. Well… Mom did. Dad died. She didn’t want to deal with her weedy little rat of a child. HYDRA, they paid for me - they paid a lot.”

He was crying. Steve wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close.   
“Oh, Bucky. Poor darlin’...” Captain America’s heart was breaking. Bucky moved into his hold, letting go of the blanket to instead cling to him.    
“I can’t imagine how that must’ve felt. But baby boy, you’re far more than that. And you are wanted. You’ve done my head in lately, but  _ I  _ want you. You’ve got potential - not as a weapon, but as a companion.” 

Poor Bucky was sobbing now. He could hear the sincerity in the man’s voice. He could feel from the tightness of his grip the undeniable sense of protectiveness he exuded. The ex-agent shifted his weight into Steve, finding him to be an anchor. All the taunting Bucky had been doing was because he  _ knew  _ it would get a rise out of the blonde, and that was the closest thing to fun he had in awhile. He could forgive the assault on his throat - he’d endured much worse. Plus, he kind of deserved it after all the aggression he’d shown. 

“I’m so sorry I was rough on ya. I shouldn’t’ve been. I shoulda kept it under control.”   
“I should’ve behaved better anyway. It’s not like I didn’t kick you in the belly. Or throw a bottle at you. Or several of those other things…”   
“We even then, doll?”   
“Yeah…”    
“Fuck, imagine this a few days back - wouldn’t have thought it, that I’d be holding you. That you wouldn’t be lashing out.” 

The brunette looked up with a grin, a warmth in his eyes that finally shone through. Steve had heard people talking about how a tender hand is the best to offer. He recalled learning that sometimes people act in certain ways out of fear, and what they needed was to be shown that they  _ could  _ be loved, that they  _ are  _ cared about. And that rang true here with Bucky. The Captain’s persistence, and assertion that he meant something, had soothed the man’s hostility for now. 

“Not to change the topic so drastically but… Why on God’s Earth did you do this to the room?”   
Bucky chuckled bashfully, looking away, “I got bored…”    
“You ripped one of the pillows up, kid…”    
“It was kinda fun.”    
Steve shook his head with a light laugh, “Oh, Buck. You’re a hell of a troublemaker. We’ll have to get this all tidied up before I go, alright sugar?”   
“No.” 

He looked up with a pout. Had he refused this earlier, maybe Steve would have grown annoyed again. But having seen a softer side of the Wolf, and seeing a playful sparkle in his eyes, he was just endeared.    
“Bucky,” There was something to his chastising tone that had changed; it was almost fatherly. It got successful results.   
“Will you help?”   
“Sure. But you’re doing the lion’s share, since it was you who wrecked up the place.” 

Seeming subdued for now, Bucky complied. He remade the bed, but sat down as soon as it was done.   
“Lion’s share, baby boy. Up.”    
Steve beckoned him, which he attempted to ignore.   
“You seem more the lion. I’m already a Wolf.” 

As much as the blonde wanted to respond to this, the transmitter on his wrist sounded. Sam needed him for something, and appeared concerned as to his time spent with the man in the cell. He confirmed he was fine, and that he was ‘on his way’. For a moment, Bucky looked disappointed. The man stood as formerly instructed, as if the obedience would somehow make him stay. Steve cut the transmitter off; Bucky slid his hands down the arm. The look in his eyes almost made the Captain break. 

Raising his other hand, he gently scratched Bucky’s jaw, “I’ll be back soon, sugar, I promise. You wanna finish tidyin’ up for me?”   
“Okay…”    
Steve brushed his thumb over the lip wound, “Lookin’ better already, doll. I’m gonna bring in the groomin’ kit when I’m back, get this beard tidied up and sort out your hair.”    
“Thank you.” 

Though it seemed he was compliant with him going, the brunette still held onto his arm, and followed him to the gate.   
“Don’t give me that look, Buck. I won’t be long.”   
Puppy dog eyes grew sweeter.   
“C’mon, baby. Good boy, let go,” He rubbed the back of Bucky’s hand, smiling when he eventually relented and stepped back, “I’ll be back at dinner time. Only a few hours.”    
Watching Steve leaving the room, he sighed pitifully. 


	5. The Lion and the Wolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The smut chapter!

It was a pleasant relief to come into the containment room and not be greeted by the clang of metal on metal. In fact, he wasn’t met with anything from Bucky when he came into the room, setting the food and grooming kit on the small table. From the room adjoining to the cell, he could hear the spray of the shower. It was likely his entrance hadn’t been noticed, and he knew better than to enter the cell of a man predisposed to defensive behaviour. 

A sweet sound hit his ears, just over the hum of the shower. Bucky was singing. The voice was a beautiful, honeyed baritone, echoing about the tiles in the bathroom. Steve didn’t recognise the song at first, but it drew him in like the sailor to the siren. Absentmindedly, the Soldier strolled to the bars, where the tune reached him more cleanly. The bathroom door was open, and he kicked himself for trying to catch a glance at the man. It was futile anyway; the shower was just out of sight. 

_ “Strawberries, cherries, and an angel’s kiss in spring. My summer wine is really made from all these things.” _ _   
_ Steve recognised it now, listening quietly. He couldn’t help himself.   
_ “When I woke up, the sun was shinin’ in my eyes.”  _ _   
_ Bucky fell quiet a moment, before carrying on,  _ “My silver spurs were gone; my head felt twice it’s size.”  _ _   
_ _ “She took my silver spurs, a dollar and a dime.” _ _   
_ _ “And left me cravin’ for more summer wine.”  _

The shower turned off. Bucky knew who it was; he seemed fairly calm. Steve supposed he wouldn’t have carried on singing if he hadn’t figured it out.   
“You can come in, y’know. I’m not fussed.”   
Cap leapt at the chance, though he internally scolded himself. His role towards Bucky had shifted from handling his case, but he was deafeningly aware that the shift might have gone too far. 

He felt like the hound on a trail, eager to taste the reward of the hunt. Longing to snap his teeth on the skin - make a meal of him. From that first time he held him in a headlock, the thought had occurred.    
Maybe Steve  _ was  _ the lion, and Bucky was the whelp that strayed too far from the pack. Vulnerable, but not defenseless. Armed to fight, but easily conquerable. Mid risk,  _ very high  _ reward.

But this thinking wasn’t right, and he knew it. He wandered to the edge of Bucky’s bed, sitting and swallowing back against tightening of his stomach. He pulled a pillow onto his lap, acting as though he just intended to lean on it. When the Wolf came through, he was only in his underwear. His brown locks were tousled from a brief attempt to towel dry them, but the ends still dripped. A thin layer of wet clung to his skin, catching to the fluff over his chest. Rosiness struck his cheeks, well aware of Steve’s gaze on his body.

It sent a shiver down his spine - the hungry, predatory gaze exhilarating. The blonde was a sight in himself, a herculean masterpiece dressed in black and navy. His face was excellently sculptured, sporting an expertly maintained beard that seemed a stranger to anything unclean. Despite the icy tone to his eyes, they seemed much darker with the way they set themselves on Bucky. Even leaning forward, elbow on the pillow, chin on the back of his hand, he was physically immense. The idea rolled in Barnes’ head of that frame over his, shoving him into the mattress. 

“Um…” Bucky’s voice fell much quieter than he anticipated, “Don’t need ‘em right away but… could I please get some clean clothes?”   
He licked his bottom lip impulsively, “‘Course. I got your food out there, didn’t pick it up. You gonna be good and not leap if I go out that gate?”   
“I’ll be good.”    
As if to prove his point, he sat down on the bed without instruction, and gave a sweet (if a little bashful) smile. Steve’s heart jumped into his throat. 

The Wolf stayed put the whole time, keeping his gaze on the Captain as he collected what was needed. There was a cabinet near the table, which he retrieved a change of clothes from. It was just the basic white t-shirt and jogging bottoms combination - cheap and easy to replace if the current assignment decided to deface them. When he returned, Bucky stayed exactly in place, his only movements to better follow Steve’s movements around the cell. 

“Right, darlin’, you might want to wait ‘til we’re done tidying you up to dress yourself. Otherwise you’ll have hair all down ya.”   
It didn’t matter to Bucky, part of him determined  _ not  _ to get dressed at all.   
“What you wanting - keeping the beard? Shaving it off?”    
“Just, um…” He shifted a little, watching Steve kneel in front of him, “Shave it, please.”   
“And the hair?”   
“Just… Normal kind of haircut?”   
“Short back and sides?”    
He nodded.

Truthfully, Steve anticipated some level of trouble in doing this. He expected Bucky to grow fussy, restless, and even a little aggressive. The way it played out instead was that the man seemed incredibly tense, sitting completely still as Steve performed some much needed maintenance on his hair. It felt like it both went on for an eternity, and ended far too soon.   
“Up, sugar. Gotta brush all the trimmin’s off’a ya.” 

Bucky obeyed, sucking in a breath as those large hands swept over him. He swallowed hard. The touches were only grazing him, and it didn’t feel like enough. An itch stayed on his skin, like there was still the odd clipping that agitated him. It was not the case; Steve had been meticulous. For a moment, the hands moved over his belly ‘just incase’, and ended up on his hips. Bucky’s wide eyed gaze flit upwards, to be met with an indeterminate expression. The Captain appeared to be trying to stifle how he was feeling, jaw clenched, breathing forced into remaining level. 

It was his eyes that gave him away. Something soft - protective and adoring - was coalescing with that formerly noticed dark desire. Bucky couldn’t stop the whine that rumbled from his chest. One moment, he was looking at Steve’s face. The next, he felt those lips crash against his, the hands on his hips slipping to the small of his back, where they pulled him completely against the powerful man. He whimpered, parting his lips eagerly as Steve’s tongue swept them. 

Control was something Steve wished he had more of; this was a prime example of it snapping. But Bucky was eager, receptive, with his hands sliding over the sweat dampened skin of the Captain’s neck and up into his hair. He could feel nails in the bare skin of his back. With their proximity, the growing bulge in Steve’s jeans was pressed right against Bucky’s belly. The communicator went off, and it was tactlessly tossed aside, towards the gate. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter that much. 

The Captain’s beard scratched the freshly shaved skin as he pushed more weight into the kisses, and Bucky hadn’t expected his face to feel so sensitive. He shed his hands from the man’s hair, instead moving them to roll the shirt up his stomach.   
“Off.”   
“Oh, babydoll, it’s sweet you think you’re in a place to make commands.”    
Suddenly, Bucky was more or less thrown to the bed, gaining the blonde a sharp squeal. 

He did take off the shirt, dropping it to the ground before moving to be on top of the wriggling Bucky. The kisses were resumed feverishly, as Bucky scratched his nails (real and metal) hard into the man’s back. This was responded to with an almost animalistic growl. His lower lip was throbbing, aggravated by the force placed upon them. It was worth it, the ache only serving to ramp up the adrenaline. 

Suddenly, cold hit his mouth as Steve pulled away. His attention turned to the now exposed jaw, where he initially peppered kisses lovingly. The Wolf arched below him, a sweet sound escaping him just to be cut off with a cry as said kisses turned into merciless sucks and bites. Heat flooded through his body, and he writhed in a meek attempt to find friction against the abs pressed into him. There wasn’t much in the way of decorum here.

His neediness did not pay off, as the next bite broke the skin and he let out a shriek. Steve pulled back, leering down at him in a way that made him shudder.   
“Tryna fuck up against my belly? Desperate little mutt. Fuckin’ look at ya, all weak under me. A sight for the Gods, baby. Ethereal. I ain’t seen a better sight.”    
Moving to be on his knees, the Captain roughly grabbed Bucky’s spread thighs, and hoisted his rump up, pulling it into his lap. The brunette moved to sit up, but was forced back down. Holding him in place, one palm flat on his chest, the other securing his hip, Steve ground his clothed cock against the mewling man. 

“Christ, sugar. I must be the luckiest bastard in the world,” He groaned as he rolled his hips, “Gettin’ to see that gorgeous face, play with this perfect body. God, what I wouldn’t do to just fuck that tight little ass of yours.”   
“Please,  _ please _ ,” The words rolled from the Wolf’s tongue urgently.    
“Didn’t think this’d be happening, pretty baby. Daddy didn’t think to bring lube or anything. As much as I love those little cries you make when things hurt, I don’t want you too fucked up. Where’s the fun for me if it’s no fun for you?” 

Punctuating that point, he tugged the elastic of his boxers down, large hand wrapping around Bucky’s drooling cock. He thumbed the head slowly, smearing precum over the skin.   
“So worked up for me already, ay darlin’? Precious.”   
As the fingers closed around his length, thumb still working the slit, Bucky thrust up against his hand.    
“Daddy’s obedient little boy… To think you’d’ve done me in only a few days back. Now look at you, sweet as anything, fuckin’ my hand like it’s your own. I’d give you the fuckin’ world, Buck, if I could.” 

Taking his hand back, he revelled in the pathetic squeal of protest. Shoving the man from his lap, he leaned over him again, catching him in a needy kiss. As much as Bucky was the one making all those wonderful little sounds, who’s freed cock was dribbling with pre and throbbing, Steve was almost unbearably desperate. His own release wasn’t priority, however. The idea of making his sweet Wolf let out a wealth of moans so glorious that they could only be deemed ungodly was what drove him. 

The blonde ducked his head down, leaving light kisses over the bruises he’d made. He trailed this down his chest, before his tongue lapped around one of Bucky’s pert nipples. Every inch of his skin felt unbelievably sensitive, like a fire roared beneath it. Steve closed his lips around the nub, sucking softly as he worked the other between a finger and thumb. There came the sounds, and they were music to his ears. 

Bucky was all soft, pliable beneath him, in a fuzzy-headed bliss that he’d never experienced before. It was almost too much. _Almost._ The man on top of him began to move, wandering kisses over the expanse of his fluffy stomach. His breaths fell heavy. They caught and shuddered in his chest with every kiss planted. Soon enough, the Captain was between his legs, and they awkwardly worked to shimmy off the underwear that had been only crudely pulled aside before. Steve dropped them beside the bed. 

He licked a stripe, hot and firm, along the underside of Bucky’s cock. An angelic cry filled the room, and he wriggled his hips slightly. Another lap, followed by the wet heat of Steve’s mouth around the head. It took everything the brunette had not to fuck up against his face, eager for more: for release. There was no quick relief gained, as the man moved agonisingly slowly, eyes fixed on the recipient’s face. He was taunting poor Bucky. 

So, of course, he acted the brat. He pushed forward. God, was that a ‘mistake’. A thumb pressed down hard into each of his hips, palms spreading over the top of his thighs, forcing him down against the bed. Steve pulled his head back, and his gaze was laced with scold.    
“Now, that’s not polite, is it, baby?”    
“Mmn…” Words weren’t coming to him; the tone going straight to his dick.   
“Say sorry.”   
Bucky remained quiet. A hand moved to grip his balls, twisting slightly. It felt a mix of incredible, and agonising. He kicked at Steve.   
“Apologize, baby boy. Or daddy’ll make it hurt  _ much  _ more.”    
The hesitation made it seem like he liked the idea, but he wasn’t content risking it without discussion.    
Instead, he managed to choke out, “‘m sorry, daddy. I’ll be good.” 

The chuckle that left Steve rumbled through his body, “Perfect boy. So good for me. So sweet. Daddy knows you’re only gettin’ carried away because you need him so bad. Tell me, Buck. Tell me.”    
Through his words, spoken in a lecherous growl, he slid both hands under the brunette’s thighs, scratching his nails through the fuzz of his leghair.    
“N-Need you, daddy,” He strained, somewhat overwhelmed, “Need you so bad… Daddy, please…”    
“Please what, pup? Want daddy to suck that little cock?” For a moment, a mocking sting hit his voice, “Or do you want me to eat that ass out like its the best pussy in the world? Use your words.”

He felt no need for his own words; Steve’s did enough for all of this. It was tantalizing, the filth that spilled from the lips of such a well regarded man. If only the world could hear it - hear just how depraved Captain America  _ really _ was. Then again, HYDRA’s Wolf wanted such words reserved for his ears, and his ears only.    
“Tell me, sugar.”    
“E-Eat me out, please, daddy.”   
Steve raised a brow.   
“Daddy! Please, daddy.”   
“You sure, baby? Sure you want me to eat that tight li’l pussy out? Want my tongue in you?”   
“Please!” His tone was growing shrill, urgent, “Please, daddy! I need your tongue in me, please.” 

It sent such a visceral, undeniable need through Steve’s body. To see such a man - all muscle and murder - begging beneath him like some desperate cur was a blessing and a half. There was no conceivable way he could deny his wishes. He pushed Bucky’s legs up over his shoulders, gripping his thighs as his head dipped between them. Now, he might have intended to give Bucky what he’d so beautifully been pleading for, but that didn’t mean he would provide it without a little teasing.

The heat of the Captain’s breath ran the sensitive skin of Bucky’s taint, and he tauntingly pressed a kiss against his clenching hole. Beneath him, the body writhed under every movement. His tongue lapped at him, earning a pathetic squeal.   
“Baby boy… So sensitive. Daddy’s barely done a thing and look at you… Sure you can handle this, pup?”   
There was an attempt at a yes, which was cut off with a more forceful strike of the tongue. 

Bucky had never felt this good; not that he could remember, anyway. The way he was being taken care of, so dedicated and lovingly, spread a warmth from his heart across his body. He was sweet beneath the Captain - his Captain - and his head was reeling. Each flick of the tongue, pressing deeper into his hole, left him on the edge of sobbing. Overly sensitive was an understatement for poor Bucky right now. He made an attempt to rut down, yowling as Steve dug his nails into the soft skin of his thighs, pulling him as close as possible. 

It was sweet, really, just how eager the Wolf was for him. The way he tried to fuck himself down on Steve’s mouth, keening and crumbling, clawing at the sheets - he was a sight to behold. He could feel him starting to clench around him, his moans turning more into strangled squeals, and he knew it wouldn’t be long until Bucky was over the edge. Sliding a hand up his thigh, he wrapped it around the man’s cock, revelling in the breathy cry that echoed in the room.

The other arm crossed Bucky’s stomach, reducing how much he could thrash beneath him. Steve’s calloused thumb worked the head on each upward stroke, his touches slightly clumsy from the angle he was at. His tongue lapped fervently, as deep in the tightening hole as he could manage.    
“I-I’m gonna..!” 

A few firmer strokes, and the blonde was rewarded with that gorgeous, shrill howl shaking the bars of the cell. Orgasm hit him  _ hard _ \- cum shooting over his stomach and chest, ass clenching on the tongue, the fingers of his human hand locked in Steve’s hair while the metal one gouged holes in the sheets. He bucked his hips like a desperate dog, shaky breaths mixed with whimpers, and Steve pulled back his head, fisting the brunette’s cock until the jerking of his body stilled. Sprawled on the sheets, Bucky was a blissed out lump, tingling and warm. 

Moving up his body, Steve flopped beside him on the sheets, wiping the wet off of his hand on the edge of the bed.   
“Perfect boy, so sweet,” The praise fell soft, “So good for me. You doin’ alright?”   
“Mmn, yeah…” His response was decorated with a giggle, “What about you? You haven’t--”   
“Don’t worry about me, doll. Give yourself time to catch your breath.”    
“‘M gonna need another shower now…”    
Steve nudged his nose into the crook of his neck, “That you will, darlin’.” 


	6. Aftermath

Steve was dragged over the coals for ignoring his transmitter. Fury really lived up to his name, as he bit and snarled as he lectured (hurled insults at) the Captain. He remained steely eyed, not balking, though it felt like guilt was chewing up his mind. Not inherently for missing a call from the head to discuss Barnes’ case, but for the events that had gone down with the man in question.

Bucky had been willing. He was more than excited, eager to go along with Steve’s dirty talk, and outright begging him. But he couldn’t help but worry he’d pressured him. With his role as Bucky’s case manager, there was a level of power he had over the Wolf that certainly made this situation questionable. His stomach was in knots. Things had ramped up quickly, their dynamic shifting so much that maybe Bucky didn’t have time to think. Hell, he’d scared the poor man not long before it - he could have worried he’d be hurt if he didn’t go along with it.

The Super Soldier was hit with heartburn, the stress mounting on him quickly. Fury was still rambling at him, and he didn’t snap out of his panicked thoughts until a familiar name was mentioned.   
“How’s James’ case going anyway? Since you’ve been spending so much time with the wild bastard, I should hope there’s progress.”   
“Fine. It’s going fine. He’s not turning so nasty on me anymore. Opened up a little about his history. I’d say not long until we can put him into residence instead of containment.”    
“Good. I want a full assessment in a week, if you’re so confident.” 

He was left in the meeting room to brood in his thoughts. Bucky had been getting better, there was no denying that, but the thought that he’d somehow fucked this up for the poor thing with his own perverse needs was aching him. If he were a smarter man, he would go to see him. That was not him. No, Steve was an emotional man, who thought with his heart and had too many doubts. His legs wouldn’t comply with him when he wanted to stand, instead locking still as he leaned his forehead on a fist. The only action he could bring himself to do was to get a Tums from his bag.

Peace wasn’t allowed around here, as Sam came through a few moments later.   
“Cap.”    
He looked up and gave a slight smile.   
“That’s a hell of a look you’ve got on your face - sullen, some would call it?” Slumping into one of the chairs, Sam kicked his feet up onto the desk.    
“Ah, just thinkin’, that’s all.”   
“Don’t hurt yourself.”    
“Oh, haha. No, about Buck’s case. Fury wants an assessment of him next week.”   
“You think he won’t pass it?”   
“I think he will, but… I don’t know. He’s a sweet kid, I ain’t wanting see ‘im hurt. It’ll break his heart if it goes wrong.” 

The two sitting either side of the table had known each other a long time. So long now that Sam could easily tell there was more to it. For a moment, he allowed Steve a chance to elaborate, looking at him with a furrowed brow and kicking his heel against the tabletop.    
“ _ His _ heart?”    
He heaved a sigh, “Look, he’s a good kid, Sam. I’ve got a bit of an affinity for him, y’know? Poor thing ain’t had it good.”    
“And he told you that? I’m impressed. You’ve worked your magic.” 

It was apparent he wasn’t willing to expose whatever thoughts were bothering him, but Sam had his suspicions. The pensive look gave him away a little.   
“If you wanna talk about it, you know where I am. But you should probably go see your boy, he’ll be missing you.”   
Steve blushed, “I’ll head down in a minute.”    
“See ya later, bud.” 

Far more than a minute later, he managed to force himself out of the chair. He took the longest route possible to the containment room, as though he hoped to think of some miracle solution to his concerns. No luck, even when he waited by the door for another ten or so minutes. Steve had to face him, regardless of what he might have done. Entering the containment room, he braced himself. 

There was a noticeable clatter, as Bucky moved from somewhere in the room and up to the gate. Looking like a dog whose owner just came back from the army, he waited by the gate with eyes bright. All the tension melted away from the blonde, and he made his way inside the cell.    
“What were you up to?” He was naturally suspicious of what caused the noise, glancing around the room.   
“Nothing.” 

That wasn’t the response of someone innocent. In fact, Bucky stuck himself to Steve’s side sweetly, looking up at him with puppy dog eyes and a grin.   
“Don’t do that,” He pouted back, instinctively scratching his chin, “That ain’t fair, baby. What were you doin’?”    
Heaving a sigh, he pawed over to corner where he’d been chipping at a broken part of the wall, “I was bored.”    
“You tryna escape, or just bored?”   
“Just bored.”

It wasn’t a lie. Being in containment was harrowingly dull, and with no real amusement, trying to bore through the wall with his metal arm seemed the most entertaining thing.    
Chuckling, Steve followed after him, “Fury’s gonna lose his head, doll. You’ve made a hell of a mess.”   
“Sorry,  _ daddy. _ ”   
Steve almost fell over himself in surprise, not expecting that to be thrown at him. But the devious look on the man’s face - alight with a smirk - sent a thrill through him.

“We should talk about that. Go sit on your bed.”   
Regardless of how assured he currently felt, it was still important to discuss the implications of what they’d done. Bucky listened, shifting closer to the Captain when he settled beside him.   
“How do you feel about it?”   
The Wolf was puzzled, tilting his head, “What do you mean?”   
“Well… What happened - do you regret it, or anything? Did you want to do it? Did I hurt you?”

He felt a little bombarded by the questions, but set a hand on Steve’s knee as if to still his worries.   
“I feel bad.”   
“Why?” Bucky laughed, “It was fine. I’m glad it happened, I  _ loved  _ it. I wanted it. And no, you didn’t hurt me, I promise.”    
“It’s just- Y’know, I’m meant to be looking after you… And I… It’s not professional. I--”    
“How do you feel about it? Not accounting for what you thought I felt.”    
“‘Was good. I just don’t want to take advantage of you.” 

Maybe the uproar of a laugh was an inappropriate response, and it almost scared Steve out of his skin.   
“Take advantage of me? I’m not the kind of man you can take advantage of. If I didn’t want something,  _ you’d know _ . Steve, I trust you. I wouldn’t’ve let you in if I didn’t, and I certainly wouldn’t’ve let you eat my ass.”    
Now it was Steve’s turn to laugh, “That’s true… At the risk of sounding precocious, I care about you a lot. The idea that I hurt you made me feel sick.”    
Thumping his head against his shoulder, Bucky tangled their fingers up, “I care about you a lot too. If you ever push me too far, or upset me, I’ll tell you. I promise. As long as you promise the same.”   
“Of course.” 


	7. Assessement

Bucky was nervous. This would be the first time he was allowed outside of his cell. Not only that, but he would be getting  _ assessed. _ No one had explained how it would work, and when he asked Steve about it the night before, he admitted that he wasn’t sure what Fury would task him with. With just how anxious he was about this trial, he managed to convince the blonde to stay in the cell with him for the night. 

They were cuddled up when Steve’s transmitter sounded from the floor beside the bed. The Captain made an odd grumbling noise at it, heavy with the daze of sleep. Bucky, sweet as anything, nuzzled into his neck, squeezing an arm around his belly. If it were up to him, they would both stay in bed, and he wouldn’t have to be made to jump through hoops. The older man seemed almost willing, until the damn thing beeped again.

“Yeah?” He batted at it, picking up the call.   
“Wolf in 20 minutes. Make sure he’s ready. Room 4.”    
“Alright, be right there.”    
Hanging up, Steve put the transmitter on his wrist, and rolled over to face Bucky.   
“Or… I could be ill?” The brunette proposed.   
“Buck.”   
“I escaped?”   
“Bucky.” He tried to sound stern.   
“Lost my legs in a freak procrastination accident?”   
“James. Up. C’mon, doll. It’ll be alright.” 

Reluctantly, Bucky got himself out of bed, having a quick wash while Steve got him some clean clothes. Room 4 - that wouldn’t be so bad. They would be testing for temperament, coordination, and problem solving ability. It was also likely that they would give him some kind of basic IQ test, or other gauge of mental capacity. All in all, Steve was feeling optimistic for the outcome. 

Once the Wolf was clean and dressed, and there was only about five minutes until they had to leave for the room, he clung to Steve.   
“No… Come on, baby.”   
“Steve, I don’t want to,” He was firm in his tone; his eyes were filled with fright.   
“Why not?” Steve kept his voice soft, “is there anything specific you’re worried about?”   
“All of it. I don’t want tested. I don’t want shut in the room on my own. I don’t know those people. I want to stay here.”    
He was hiding his face in Steve’s shirt. 

Steve’s heart sunk. He clutched the man close to his chest, rocking him gently in his arms. Though he couldn't see for proof, judging by the slight jerks of the chest, Bucky was crying. He rocked with Steve, leaning into him like he was the only thing holding him up.   
"Tell you what, doll… I'll see if Fury'll let me in with ya. But you won't be able to involve me if he lets us. Would you feel better that way?"   
"Yes please…" 

In spite of this, he stayed put in his arms. Steve kept a grip around his waist, though he pulled the transmitter up and radioed the head.   
"What's gone wrong  _ now _ , Rogers?" Fury wasn't the most pleasant at times.   
"Kid's a nervous wreck. Any way I could convince you to let me in the room with him while he's trialed?"   
An exasperated sigh came through the speaker, "Fine. But you're late, get a damn move on!" Fury hung up.

The Wolf looked uncomfortable, guilt chewing at him from the man's tone. It felt he was doing nothing but causing trouble. He was offered a reassuring smile, as Steve tugged his chin up and brushed a hand over his cheek.   
“It’ll be okay, darlin’. I’ll be right there, and it’s nothing too strenuous. You’ll do fine,” Giving him a soft kiss, he smiled, “Right, let’s get a move on before Fury drags me through hell yet again.” 

Bucky was introduced to Fury, and re-introduced to Sam.   
“Sorry I… um… you know.”    
“Eh, we’re past that. Not the worst anyone’s ever done to me,” He laughed warmly, “Right, in the room. Good luck.”    
He nearly leapt out of his skin as Sam patted his back, and he paused nervously when Steve stopped to mumble something to the Falcon. 

He was directed to a chair at a small desk, and ordered to fill in a form with personal details. The blonde got comfortable on the two seater couch in the corner, watching Bucky carefully. He was poised to leap and catch him should he show even a sliver of upset. Fury came into the room, and had a quiet word with Steve about how he was to refrain from interaction and participation, unless he had no other option. Bucky just watched the conversation, silent. 

Fury took a seat at the front of the room, spotting shortly after that Bucky had finished filling his paperwork in. He proceeded to type away on his laptop - loudly - while sipping at a coffee. Having nothing to do now, the Wolf started to fidget, looking at the eyepatched man with a tilted head. He glimpsed over his shoulder to Steve, who just smiled. Was he supposed to say he was done?   
“Finished.”   
“Okay.” 

The man didn’t get up to take the paper. Nor did he ask him to do anything else. Bucky was growing stressed. He scratched at his neck, bouncing a leg, looking between the two other men in the room. It was taking all Steve had not to interject in some way. Staying put, the Wolf eventually let out a quiet whine. No one responded. He tapped his metal fingers on the desk. Nothing.   
“S-Sir,” Bucky rasped in Fury’s direction, flinching back at the glare, and falling silent. 

Another five minutes passed, then became ten, and Bucky was literally trembling. His ‘handler’ was also getting tense, disliking how the poor thing was being put through such distress. Just before Steve’s resolve snapped, Fury stood, took the paper, and read through it, talking over some details for confirmation. 

They then went through some basic tests, largely judging his coordination, balance, and reflexes. He clearly felt more at ease with this, finding direct instructions more manageable than guessing what was wanted. Bucky appeared to struggle with balancing on one leg (either side), but that was down to the metal arm. It weighed him down noticeably. While it wouldn’t pose much of an issue in most contexts, it would be important to keep in mind. 

But it turned out that - in spite of a slight weight distribution issue - Bucky had adapted well to move stealthily. Fury had him walk the room a few times, watching his uneven gait, but noting how he spread his weight so that his footfalls were a little quieter. He hadn’t really paid much mind to the examiner, distracted by the way Steve lay reclined on the couch, watching him. Knowing that the Captain had relaxed, Bucky seemed a great deal more confident in the room. 

When he was done being trialed, he was directed to sit on the couch beside Steve. The Wolf pawed his way over, shoving the man’s legs slightly to get him to move. He laughed, deliberately not cooperating, gaining a pout.   
“Move…” Bucky whined sharply, and Steve’s sympathy kicked in.    
They both had to resist leaning into each other, given that they should be keeping things on the low down. Fury was in the know; Steve was oblivious.

“With what you’ve shown me today, you’re on the right track. I’m surprised to see so much progress, admittedly. You were a fucking wreck when you came in here that first day. What would you say helped you?”   
Steve. He wanted to say Steve. He assumed it would be a fine answer, given that it was the truth, and his way of handling Bucky’s initial aggressions played into this, but he was worried he would raise questions. However, he was now just looking blankly at Fury.   
“Not sure?”   
“Only having one person to deal with me. The other guy coming in as well, and people trying to grab me, I didn’t like that. But I wasn’t really against S.H.I.E.L.D anyway. HYDRA owned me, they sent me, and I was scared, so I got nasty. But that’s not me.” 

He looked to Steve for approval, and gained a light pat on the knee.    
“And Steve - his progress? What’s your viewpoint?”   
“He’s come on good. I don’t think he needs to be in containment any longer. He don’t like it there, and he’s calm when I go to him. He wasn’t nasty with Sam, or with you, when he came out here. But field work is out of the question until he’s more adapted. Poor bastard was terrified comin’ out here today. There’s more to go there. But he could go into residence now, I sincerely believe that.” 

At no point had the blonde answered for one of these cases so passionately. Not only that, but Steve had  _ always  _ veered on the side of caution, requesting an additional week in containment post assessment as a precautionary measure. If his more unprofessional interest in Bucky wasn’t clear before, it definitely was now.    
“I trust your judgement, Steve,” Fury smiled, “But that leaves the talk of where he’ll be staying.”    
There was a slightly awkward pause, with the man smirking at Steve’s fluster.    
“I’m assuming you want him in with you?”   
“H-How… How?  _ How,  _ Fury, do you know a-” 

A guffaw filled the room. Bucky shrunk back against the Captain, startled by the noise and almost agonisingly embarrassed. It would only get worse.   
“Did think about saying something, but it didn’t seem a real problem to me. I mean, good for you - good for both of you. But Steve, you realise there’s cameras in containment, right?”    
He was beet red. Bucky took a moment more to realise the implication, and was  _ mortified _ .   
“Don’t worry, I deleted the tapes. But son…” Fury couldn’t stop laughing, “Use your damn head. This is why Sam keeps calling you a blonde himbo.” 

Tying up a few loose ends, the trial was over, and permission was given to let Bucky be out on the complex. It was, however, heavily outlined that he was not to be away from Steve for more than half an hour. He was trusted, but not completely. Bucky didn’t care, overjoyed that he would have some degree of freedom, and more than happy to have to stick around the man. And the Captain was grateful that - due to having to mind Bucky - he would be off work for a little while. 

They could just spend some time enjoying themselves, and each other, before either were redeployed. Eagerly, Steve lead the brunette up to his bedroom. The room was  _ huge,  _ much bigger than any bedroom he’d seen before. There was a king sized bed against the wall, two large bookcases more or less flanking it (completely full), and a rocking chair with a fluffy blanket by the window. His large desk also had shelves with books and some tchotchkes, and the table housed a slimline laptop attached to a monitor. 

Bucky was almost in awe. He footed towards the bed, running his fingers over the throw at the end. His head turned to Steve, as if to say -  _ ‘are you seeing this?’ _ . The man just chuckled, kicking off his boots and making his way over to the bed, flopping on the sheets. An arm extended, and the brunette near enough threw himself into it. He nuzzled his nose against Steve’s chest, grinning. 

“I promise you, baby boy. You’ll be well looked after here.”   
“‘Love you, Stevie…”    
“Love you too, Buck.” 


End file.
